


The Stuff

by LerxstInSpace



Series: Contingency Plan-verse [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Condoms, Cuddling & Snuggling, Curtis is a Sweetheart (and also hot), Established Curtis/Shiro (Voltron), First Time, Fluff and Smut, Flustered Shiro (Voltron), M/M, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Safer Sex, Supportive Curtis (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-28
Updated: 2019-01-28
Packaged: 2019-10-18 01:17:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17571548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LerxstInSpace/pseuds/LerxstInSpace
Summary: Shiro clears his throat, and Curtis squeezes his shoulder.  “You remember the other day when you asked me to get something out of your nightstand?”“Mm-hmm...”“Well... I opened the wrong drawer first.”“Oh.” There’s a long silence. Not a still one, though. Curtis’ thumb is stroking Shiro’s shoulder, back and forth, slow and soothing. “You saw the stuff, huh?”The stuff.Shiro can’t help but laugh at that. It sounds so...devious. “Yyyyyyeah. And I can’t stop thinking about it.”Curtis laughs too, and he gives a little shrug. “I just figured we’d need it sooner or later and the drugstore had the kind I like back in stock, so...” He’s quiet for a little while, still stroking Shiro’s shoulder, then he leans over and kisses the top of Shiro’s head. “I’ve been having some spicy thoughts too, y’know.”Shiro feels his entire nervous system short out. Well, except for whatever part of it connects his eardrums to his pants parts, that subsystem is working like a goddamn champ.[In which Curtis is prepared and Shiro is a bit of a mess about it]





	The Stuff

The first few months after the _Atlas_ comes home are pretty rough for everyone. And when Shiro finally does decompress enough to do anything other than work or sleep or quietly cuddle with Curtis in front of the TV, their date nights aren’t much. They’re dinner at a restaurant where “no shirt, no shoes, no service” is the whole of the dress code. They’re a walk in the park or a drive out to the desert to watch the sunset. And then, back home to one couch or the other and the TV and some quiet time.

 

Honestly, that’s fine. Right now, after all that’s happened, Shiro is just glad to finally get some desperately-needed alone time with Curtis without having to worry about the shit hitting the fan at any given moment. And it _is_ desperately-needed, God, he had no idea how touch-starved he really was until that first time Curtis held him, and he knows it’s been ages for Curtis too. So really, if all they do on any given evening is just cling to each other on the couch for a few hours, Shiro is absolutely down for that.

 

He’s still not quite used to actually having _downtime,_ to the idea that this time there probably really _isn’t_ something worse than what they just saved the universe from lurking somewhere out there. He’s still half-expecting to get rattled out of bed in the middle of the night to find out there is. But he’s getting there.

 

They’re both still living in the officers’ dorm and that’s fine, even if they had the time or energy to move and even if the local off-base housing market wasn’t still... _recovering,_ it’s still way too early in the relationship to even think about moving in together.

 

But it’s not too early for long snuggling sessions on one couch or another.

 

It’s not too early for those snuggling sessions to start turning into makeout sessions. Nothing too hot and heavy yet--a little tongue in their kisses here, a hand sneaking under a shirt there, even a (fully clothed) backrub one night.

 

It’s definitely not too early for them to pass out together on that couch. Well, they live in the same building but on different floors, they can’t reasonably be expected to _get up_ and then walk _all the way to the elevator_ and then _all the way back to their own room._ Not when there’s a perfectly good couch right there, with a nice warm human pillow on it.

 

And Curtis is a _very_ comfortable pillow.

 

* * *

 

The world is recovering. Slowly but surely, the world is recovering. And every little thing they used to take for granted showing back up on a store shelf feels like a victory.

 

Shiro wanders by Curtis’ room to see what he’s up to one day. He’s just gotten back from the drugstore, and he’s over the moon because they had his favorite candy bar back in stock. But a shit-ton of Heath bars isn’t all he got--there’s another bag. He doesn’t empty this one out in the main room, but he does go into it and hand Shiro a bottle--huh, they’ve actually got his aftershave in again. Poor Curtis is almost out of his. His came from one of those mom n’ pop bath bomb places online, one that didn’t fare well in the invasion, and he hasn’t been able to find anything even close to it.

 

Curtis takes the bag into the bathroom and unloads part of it, and then... into the bedroom? Whatever, maybe he got some socks or underwear or something.

 

* * *

 

A couple of days later Shiro comes over so they can go do their laundry together and Curtis almost forgets something. He’s got his hands full, so as he’s going out the door he asks Shiro to go back and get whatever it is--a book or his tablet or something--out of his nightstand drawer. Sure, no problem.

 

Except Shiro gets into the bedroom and--did he say top or bottom drawer? Eh, he’ll figure it out.

 

He opens the top first and when he realizes what exactly that bottle and that little box he’s looking at are, he feels his face heat up like a furnace and feels his heart race in his throat and--oh God, he’s going to have to sit there in the laundry room for the next two hours or so and try like hell not to think about this, and then later he’s going to go back to his room and put his laundry away and he’s going to think about it _at great length and in extremely fine detail for the rest of the day and night._

 

Because apparently, the drugstore also has lube and condoms back on the shelf.

 

 _Textured_ condoms.

 

* * *

 

It’s not that Shiro isn’t thinking about the sex stuff yet. Because of course he is. If he and Curtis hit it off--which obviously, they have--it was kind of a given that sooner or later the sex stuff would happen. And furthermore, thinking about doing sex stuff with Curtis is just _fun._ He’s a gorgeous guy and if that wasn’t enough, Shiro has reason to believe he’s a top.

 

And Curtis is the kind of guy who likes to be prepared for stuff, of course he’d rather have the things and not need them than the other way around.

 

(Honestly, Shiro doesn’t think they even _need_ protection, they’ve both gone so long without. But... _textured.)_

 

It’s just that... okay, yeah, they’ve had their makeouts now and then, and sure, their makeouts are starting to maybe get a little heavier now, there’s even been a little gentle fully-clothed petting and grinding the last couple of times, but now there is physical evidence that _Curtis_ is in fact thinking about the actual for-real sex stuff and taking measures to be ready for it when it happens.

 

Thinking about that is...

 

Well...

 

It’s _hot as hell,_ is what it is. But it’s also making Shiro a little nervous. Mostly, he’s nervous about Curtis seeing him naked--or, really, even shirtless.

 

Sure, they’ve seen each other naked before. They went through the academy together, they used to go to the gym together every morning, communal showers and locker rooms and such were a thing. But that was before the Kerberos mission and everything that happened to Shiro thereafter.

 

He’s nervous about how Curtis is going to react to all the scars. Because that one on his nose isn’t the only one, not even close, and it’s not even close to the worst one. He’s particularly worried about that handprint on his thigh and that web of energy whip lashes across his back.

 

He hasn’t even gone to the gym with Curtis since they’ve been back, on account of that. Curtis has been making some faint noises about maybe trying that again, and Shiro is running out of excuses.

 

Logically, he knows Curtis is aware of the shit he’s gone through, he’s probably expecting some marks, of course he’d be expecting some marks, _Shiro has a clearly visible glowing metal shoulder and a free-floating robot arm,_ how could he look at that and _not_ expect a few more marks but still... he can’t help worrying about it.

 

* * *

 

After a couple of days of this, Shiro realizes he’s being kind of a bonehead about it.

 

He has, after all, decided he’s not going to make the same mistakes with Curtis that he made with Adam. And one of those mistakes was keeping shit that bothered him bottled up.

 

Curtis has said in so many words _please don’t do that, talk to me,_ but old habits die hard.

 

Maybe it’s not quite dead yet, but at least Shiro manages to knock it unconscious for a few hours one night.

 

“Hey,” he says while he and Curtis are watching some movie or another, “can I talk to you about something?”

 

“Of course,” Curtis replies. With some couples, there’s this _oh shit_ response when one party or the other asks that question. Not this one. “What’s up?”

 

“I, uh...” Oh God, he hasn’t even said anything yet and he can already feel himself turning red. “I’ve been having some, uh... _thoughts.”_

 

Okay, maybe _now_ Curtis is getting a little unsettled.

 

“Nothing bad!” Shiro quickly clarifies. “Okay, well, maybe for _some_ values of ‘bad’ but--” Oh shit, that’s not helping. “Just, uh...” How the hell is he going to put this delicately? “Just...”

 

Wait. _Wait._ Come on. Does he even _need_ to put it delicately? _The man has a fresh box of condoms and a bottle of lube in his nightstand in preparation for the exact thing Shiro has been thinking about, for crying out loud!_

 

“Just. Um.”

 

...yes. Yes, he _does_ need to put it delicately, because he’s too embarrassed not to.

 

“...spicy,” he finishes.

 

Curtis doesn’t say anything for a while.

 

 _“Spicy,”_ he finally repeats. Shiro has his head on Curtis’ shoulder and he doesn’t look up, but he can _hear_ the grin.

 

“Yeah.” Shiro clears his throat, and Curtis squeezes his shoulder. “You remember the other day when we were doing laundry and you asked me to get something out of your nightstand?”

 

“Mm-hmm...”

 

“Well... I opened the wrong drawer first.”

 

“Oh.” There’s a long silence. Not a still one, though. Curtis’ thumb is stroking Shiro’s shoulder, back and forth, slow and soothing. “You saw the stuff, huh?”

 

_The stuff._

 

Shiro can’t help but laugh at that. It sounds so... _devious._ “Yyyyyyeah. And I can’t stop thinking about it.”

 

Curtis laughs too, and he gives a little shrug. “I just figured we’d need it sooner or later and the drugstore had the kind I like back in stock, so...” He’s quiet for a little while, still stroking Shiro’s shoulder, then he leans over and kisses the top of Shiro’s head. “I’ve been having some spicy thoughts too, y’know.”

 

Shiro feels his entire nervous system short out. Well, except for whatever part of it connects his eardrums to his pants parts, _that_ subsystem is working like a goddamn _champ._

 

All right. Come on. _Obviously_ Curtis has been thinking some spicy thoughts if he thought they were at a point in their relationship where it might be a good idea to have _the stuff_ around just in case, but... there’s thinking Curtis is probably thinking about having sex with him, and then there’s hearing him say in so many words that he’s thinking it, and _then..._

 

And then there’s knowing that Curtis got that particular kind of _the stuff_ because that’s the kind he _likes._

 

“Okay,” Shiro says when he remembers how to words again, “hearing you say that out loud is... kinda getting my motor running.” They both laugh, but the fact remains that they’re that much closer to the thing Shiro is worried about. “It’s just... well... I’m kind of nervous about it.”

 

“It’s okay.” Curtis pets his shoulder some more and then snuggles him close. “Take your time. I’m not ready until _you_ are.”

 

Shiro knows he means that and definitely appreciates it, but... “That’s not what I’m nervous about.” He takes a deep breath, shuts his eyes and tries to relax into Curtis’ touch, and lets it out slowly. “I, uh... I’m kind of afraid you won’t want to when you... I’ve got a lot of scars, and...”

 

Curtis’ hand stills on his shoulder for a minute. Then he sighs out a warm breath into the top of Shiro’s head and follows it with another kiss. “I’ll want to,” he says. “but if it’s making you nervous... maybe let me see before we get there? So you won’t worry about surprising me in the middle of--y’know. You don’t have to do it tonight, just... when you’re ready.”

 

(Later it will occur to Shiro that at no point did Curtis ever so much as entertain the possibility that he wouldn’t be okay with it, it was all about allaying _Shiro’s_ worries, and he’ll have to just take a moment to stare off into space and think about how much he loves this guy.)

 

“Okay,” Shiro says, nodding against Curtis’ shoulder. “Yeah. That’s a good idea.”

 

Curtis gives him a squeeze and that’s it. That whole conversation Shiro was afraid of having is done and resolved and they’re both okay with the way it went.

 

They go back to watching their movie and grazing on their snacks for a while. Well... Curtis might be watching the movie, but Shiro just has his eyes on it while his brain is doing other things.

 

He’s still nervous about this. He’s still nervous as hell about this.

 

 _Oh for fuck’s sake,_ he thinks, and his internal voice sounds _way_ too much like Adam. _He can see that you have a glowing metal shoulder and he’s clearly pretty okay with that or he wouldn’t be having_ spicy thoughts _about you and stocking up on sexytime supplies, do you_ really _think a few scars are going to gross him out at this point? Give the man some credit._

 

Well... his internal voice does have a point there.

 

He clears his throat. “Curtis?”

 

“Mmm?”

 

“Is it okay if I go ahead and show you--” Shiro thinks about the handprint on his thigh and realizes that one would require him to take his pants off, and he feels his ears turn red at the thought of that. “--some of them?”

 

Curtis doesn’t answer right away. “Are you sure?” he finally says, and he squeezes Shiro’s shoulder a little.

 

“Yeah,” Shiro says. “I guess... I’d rather just get it over with, y’know?” He sits up and sees Curtis giving him a concerned look. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

 

“Okay.” Curtis nods and lets his hand slide down Shiro’s back, slow and soothing. And that helps. It helps a lot.

 

Shiro takes a deep breath, gathers his courage, squeezes his eyes shut, and pulls his shirt off. All he hears for a while is the TV and Curtis’ breath, slow and even--and his own, a little less of both.

 

He can’t open his eyes. He’s afraid of what he’ll see on Curtis’ face if he does.

 

But then Curtis whispers “Can I touch them?” and Shiro feels his heart leap into his throat. He tries to answer that out loud and can’t, so he just nods.

 

He jumps a little when he feels gentle fingers stroke his collarbone. Then his left shoulder, his chest, his stomach, the right side of his abdomen just under his rib cage. There’s no hesitation in the way Curtis is touching him, and Shiro realizes Curtis isn’t trying to get used to the feel of scarred flesh under his fingertips--he’s trying to get _Shiro_ used to him touching it the same way he’d touch the rest of him.

 

“Your back too?” Curtis asks softly, and... okay, if he’s all right with this so far, he’s probably going to be okay with the rest of it. So Shiro nods again and turns his back to Curtis.

 

Shiro feels Curtis trace the web of scars that crisscross his upper back and gasps softly. “That’s--that’s one of the ones I was _really_ worried about,” he says. Curtis’ fingertips lift away from his skin only to be replaced by both of his hands, splayed out across the whip scars like wings, and the warmth of his touch melts the tension out of Shiro’s shoulders. “You’re... really okay with them?”

 

“I’m not okay with where they came from,” Curtis whispers. “I’m not okay with what you had to go through to get them. But they’re part of _you._ Of course I’m okay with them.” And before Shiro can say anything to that, Curtis’ hands part, and Shiro feels warm breath and then Curtis’ _lips_ touch the scars on his back.

 

It’s almost too much. Shiro can’t bite back the noise that comes out of him, can’t stop his back from arching towards Curtis’ touch.

 

“Oh--” Curtis leans back. “Sorry, I--I should have asked--”

 

“No, no. It’s okay.” Shiro opens his eyes and realizes he’s got both of his hands knotted in his shirt. He considers it for a moment and then reaches over to drape it over the arm of the couch. “...do it again?”

 

Curtis does. It’s still almost too much--especially when he starts working his way up. The back of Shiro’s neck has always been extra sensitive but this--this is a whole new level and suddenly Shiro isn’t so sure he won’t be showing Curtis that other scar tonight. For now he just lets his head drop forward and shuts his eyes.

 

One of Curtis’ hands slides around to his chest, gently pulling Shiro back against him, and Curtis trails soft kisses down the side of his neck, down to his shoulder.

 

“Okay?” Curtis whispers, and Shiro nods.

 

And he _is_ okay. All of this is okay. Except...

 

Except he _really_ wants to get his hands on Curtis right now.

 

So he wriggles a little, just enough to get the point across that he wants to turn around, and Curtis lets him. Shiro pushes his hands up under the back of Curtis’ shirt and feels goosebumps under his fingers as he slides his hands up Curtis’ back.

 

“Mm.” Curtis takes his hands off Shiro just long enough to pull his own shirt off and toss it over the arm of the couch too. That done, he wraps his arms around Shiro and pulls him in for a kiss. There’s tongue. A little more than usual. Then a _lot_ more than usual. And it’s nice. It’s slow and lazy, just the way Shiro likes it best, and Curtis’ hands are still roaming every inch of bare skin they can reach, scarred or not.

 

After all the time they’ve spent together before Kerberos, then on the bridge of the _Atlas,_ then in each others’ arms on one couch or another, Curtis has gotten _very_ good at reading Shiro’s body language. Sometimes it’s like Curtis knows what he’s thinking even before _he_ does. But it doesn’t take that kind of perception to understand what Shiro means when he leans his head back and bares his throat.

 

And Curtis _does_ understand. He pulls back, just for a moment, just long enough to brush his thumb over Shiro’s lips. Then he presses a long, lingering kiss to the soft hollow of Shiro’s exposed throat and lays him back on the couch.

 

God, this feels amazing--it’s been so long since Shiro felt like he could offer himself up to someone like this, like he could surrender completely and know all the way to the core of his being that he’ll be safe and cared for.

 

“Maybe,” Shiro breathes, with a little grin, “maybe go ahead and get the stuff? Just in case?”

 

“Mmm. Not yet.” Curtis slides off the couch, onto his knees, and leans down and nips at Shiro’s jaw, just a little touch of teeth to his skin. “If it gets to that point we’ll just go in there.” Shiro feels his lips curve into a smile against his jaw. “Let me take care of _you_ first.”

 

Oh, God. Oh, _fuck._ He’s definitely a top. And he’s one of _those_ tops, God, this just keeps getting better and better.

 

“It’s not gonna take long,” Shiro warns him, and that’s an understatement--the conversation and all those gentle kisses and soft caresses and the dawning realization of just how sexually compatible he and Curtis might really be have him wound up so tight he’s afraid a good stiff breeze could set him off.

 

But Curtis doesn’t seem to mind. “Me either,” he laughs. “It’s, uh... it’s been a while. So... I _really_ want to make sure you’re satisfied first.”

 

Yep. Definitely one of _those_ tops.

 

He doesn’t go for Shiro’s belt, not yet. Instead he just lays a trail of soft kisses down Shiro’s chest while his hands explore. The pad of his thumb brushes over a nipple and pauses there, circling whisper-light over it, teasing it hard until Shiro groans and arches up into the touch.

 

At that point, Shiro decides it’d probably be a good idea to take his right hand off Curtis until he knows what it’s going to do when he comes. God, the _last_ thing they need is an unplanned trip to Medical on account of sexytimes-and-robot-hand related injuries. So he reaches back behind his head and gets a big handful of the couch cushion. That should be pretty safe, he figures.

 

That done, Shiro combs the fingers of his flesh-and-blood hand through Curtis’ hair, stroking it back from his forehead and letting it fall again. Curtis closes his eyes and makes a soft little contented noise, leaning into Shiro’s hand and nuzzling his chest.

 

Then he picks his head up and sucks Shiro’s thumb into his mouth and--oh. _Oh,_ that puts a _lot_ of images in Shiro’s head, doesn’t it? Really interesting ones. Really _nice_ ones. And then his tongue swirls around the tip of it and Curtis _has_ to know what that’s doing, he can’t possibly not know that it’s making Shiro think about that tongue doing that thing elsewhere. Shiro wants to keep watching this because holy _shit_ it’s hot but it’s getting harder for him to keep his eyes open, harder for him to keep his head up.

 

He figures it’ll be safe enough for him to use that right hand to unbuckle his belt, but he barely gets it half-undone before Curtis sits back and gently nudges his hand aside. “I’ve got it.”

 

So Shiro reaches back for his handful of cushion and settles in to watch Curtis undo his pants. Those long fingers work his belt loose, then undo the top button of his jeans, then ever so carefully work the zipper down and that’s about all Curtis can do until Shiro plants his feet on the couch and pushes his hips up and-- _oh fuck, that scar!_

 

Curtis doesn’t even notice it until he tosses Shiro’s jeans over the other arm of the couch and reaches up to touch him or pull his underwear off or something. He can’t help hissing in a little soft breath when he does.

 

“Yeah,” Shiro says, “that’s the _other_ one I was worried about...”

 

“Mm.” Curtis traces the outline of the handprint with his fingertips, then the deeper scar in the middle of it. He glances up at Shiro’s robot hand clutching the couch cushion and back at the handprint, and Shiro sees something like understanding cross his face.

 

Then Curtis kisses him there, right in the palm of that handprint on his thigh. There’s not a lot of feeling left in that spot, but Shiro still shivers when he does it. He shivers even more when Curtis starts working his way _up._

 

Just like that, his scars and Curtis’ reaction to them are officially a complete non-issue. And with that resolved, there’s nothing left to worry about.

 

Well, almost nothing left to worry about--his briefs are still in the way.

 

Curtis hooks a couple of fingers into the elastic, but he doesn’t pull them down yet. Instead he brushes the fingertips of his other hand up the inside of Shiro’s thigh and up the hard bulge in his underwear, pausing to rub that damp spot just below the waistband until Shiro is gasping and trembling under his hands.

 

“Curtis,” Shiro whispers, ragged and urgent, “please, God, _please--”_

 

Curtis makes some kind of a noise at that--something soft in the back of his throat, too low to be properly called a whine--and Shiro can feel him shiver. He pushes his hips up again and Curtis strips his underwear off him.

 

No, it’s not the first time he’s seen Shiro naked, but it’s the first time he’s seen it this close, and definitely the first time he’s seen Shiro naked and hard. His beautiful blue eyes go wide and glaze over a little and he swallows hard enough for Shiro to hear.

 

As far as Shiro knows, he’s not unusually well-endowed--maybe a little better than average, sure, but not exceptionally so--but Curtis still seems to think he’s got something really special here.

 

And then... Curtis seems to notice something, and he makes a weird little choking noise. Like he’s trying to bite back a laugh, and not being entirely successful. And Curtis has such a contagious laugh that it’s hard for Shiro to not grin a little himself.

 

“So, uh...” Curtis presses one fist to his mouth like he’s trying to stifle a cough. _“All_ of it turned white, huh...”

 

“Oh, _come on!”_ Shiro bursts out laughing, and Curtis just drops his forehead onto Shiro’s hip and wheezes for a minute.

 

“Okay. Okay. I’m okay. ...oh my God.” Curtis sits back up and wipes his eyes, still snickering a little. “Okay. Sorry. I couldn’t help it. Where was I...”

 

And before Shiro can offer any suggestions, Curtis’ hand curls around the base of his cock. He doesn’t stroke, doesn’t squeeze, just gently cradles it in his fingers like he’s holding something precious and delicate. Then he ducks his head down and runs his tongue along the underside, from base to tip, and suddenly Shiro is grateful for the momentary comic relief he unwittingly provided--if not for that, he’d already be coming. As it is, the way Curtis’ tongue swirls around the head of his cock and flicks at the very tip almost does him in, and when Curtis takes him in it’s all he can do to hold still and try to make this last, even if only a little longer.

 

“Go slow,” he groans, and Curtis pulls back and nods.

 

He can’t quite take Shiro all the way, but that hand around the base more than makes up for that. He sinks down slow and pulls back even slower, teases the slit a little with the tip of his tongue before he sinks down again and--okay, yes, that _is_ what Shiro asked him to do but _God_ it’s driving him crazy with need. Holy _shit,_ Curtis is good at this; the rhythm he eases into keeps Shiro right on the edge for longer than he ever thought he could stand.

 

But he can’t stay there forever, and when Curtis sneaks his other hand between Shiro’s legs to cup his balls, that little extra bit of heat and pressure pushes him over. He tries his best to control the upward motion of his hips out of concern for Curtis, but Curtis doesn’t seem to be in any distress--in fact, he seems to be enjoying this. A lot. Every time Shiro’s hips jerk upwards, every time his cock pulses against Curtis’ tongue, every time he moans or yelps Curtis moans too and tightens his hand around Shiro’s balls just the tiniest bit, just a little vibration and a little more pressure when and where he needs it to drag his orgasm out even further.

 

It’s probably a good thing he doesn’t have his right hand on Curtis right now. He doesn’t hear any fabric ripping or anything, but he knows the grip he’s got on that cushion would be painful at best if applied to a human person.

 

Eventually, he releases his handful of cushion and lets his flesh-and-blood hand drop onto Curtis’s shoulder. Curtis holds his cock in his mouth a little longer, swallowing the last few little spurts and easing him through the tail end of it, then he gently lets it go. He cradles Shiro’s dick in his fingers again as it starts to soften and touches a single soft kiss to that sensitive spot just under the head.

 

God, Shiro already knows he’s going to be thinking about that little kiss for weeks.

 

 _“Mmm.”_ Shiro flops back onto the couch and lets out a long, shaky breath. His thumb strokes Curtis’ shoulder, soft over warm bare skin. “You okay?”

 

“Mm- _hmm._ ” Curtis practically _purrs_ that as he leans into Shiro’s touch. “Think I’m gonna need a minute before we do anything else, though...” He flashes Shiro a little sheepish grin. “You almost got _me_ off.”

 

“Oh yeah?” _That’s_ got Shiro’s attention. “You liked that, huh?”

 

“Mm-hmm,” Curtis purrs again, this time right into Shiro’s ear, and Shiro can’t help but shiver. “Wish I could have seen your face from there but... that was _hot._ ”

 

Shiro doesn’t know what to say to that. So instead he curls his hand around the back of Curtis’ neck and pulls him in for a kiss. He can feel Curtis’ fingertips brushing damp strands of hair off his forehead, and he can taste his own come on Curtis’ lips. It’s a strange combination of sweet and sexy that sends a slow-building wave of tingly warmth through Shiro’s insides.

 

“I think we need to go to the bedroom,” Shiro whispers.

 

“Are you sure?” Curtis whispers back, letting his fingertips trail down Shiro’s jaw, and Shiro nods.

 

“Absolutely.”

 

Curtis offers Shiro a hand up, and he takes it. “Hey,” Shiro says, with a soft laugh, “you’re still in your pants. That’s not fair.” He gets to his feet and reaches for Curtis’ belt, but once again Curtis gently nudges his hand away.

 

“Not yet,” he says. “I’m, uh... still a little too close for comfort?”

 

Shiro wiggles an eyebrow at him. “You’d be more comfortable without those pants.”

 

Curtis groans and shakes his head. “Shame on you.” But of course they both know he doesn’t mean it. If he did, would he be taking Shiro by the hand and leading him to the bedroom this very second? Of course he wouldn’t.

 

Those officer dorm beds are pretty small--just singles. Which means if two people want to share one, they have to get cozy. Fortunately for Shiro and Curtis, they are _all about cozy_ right now.

 

Shiro doesn’t wait for an invitation. He flops down on his back first and pulls Curtis on top of him. God, it’s just what he needs--the warmth and weight of Curtis’ body pressing him into the mattress, Curtis’ long legs loosely tangled with his own, Curtis kissing him slow and deep.

 

“I was going to give you a backrub,” Curtis murmurs against Shiro’s lips. “And go from there.”

 

“Mmm.” Shiro considers that while Curtis kisses him some more. “I’d like that. But I want to see _your_ face.” He lightly catches Curtis’ lower lip between his teeth, just for a second. “You’re not the only one who likes to watch, y’know.”

 

 _“Mmm.”_ Curtis shivers a little, Shiro can feel the muscles in his stomach trembling against his. “I’ll tell you when to flip over, then.”

 

“Promise?”  


“Promise.”

 

“‘Kay.” Shiro runs his hands down Curtis’ back and pats him on the butt. “Lose the pants and I’ll turn over.”

 

“Okay.” Curtis slides off him and off the bed. Shiro watches him unbuckle his belt and undo his fly and push his jeans and underwear down over his hips and--oh holy _shit,_ Curtis is gorgeous naked, isn’t he? He’s tall and lean and he has legs for _days._ He’s got an adorable butt. And... Shiro takes one look at his cock and feels himself flush crimson to the tips of his ears. Just the right length--just a little longer than his own--and _thick._

 

Just the thought of it inside him is enough to make his own cock start to sit up and take notice again.

 

“C’mon,” Curtis says gently, and Shiro remembers that he was supposed to flip over while Curtis was shedding his pants. “On your tummy.”

 

“Got distracted,” Shiro says, flashing Curtis a little grin as he rolls over. “There’s a hot naked guy in here.” Curtis laughs and climbs back up on the bed and swings one of those long legs over Shiro, then kneels astride his ass. He leans over to get something out of the nightstand drawer--at first Shiro thinks he’s going for _the stuff,_ but not quite. Not yet. What he does come out with is a bottle of perfectly mundane lotion so... maybe _stuff-adjacent?_ Perhaps _stuff-lite?_

 

Whatever it is, the motions Curtis goes through to fetch it have the interesting side effect of pressing his cock against the small of Shiro’s back. And Shiro suddenly finds himself wondering if maybe this time he could just stay on his stomach and... no, no, he _really_ wants to see how pretty Curtis is when he comes. Maybe next time.

 

“Oh, uh--” Curtis sits back up and clears his throat. “No latex allergies, right?”

 

Shiro can’t help but laugh into the pillow. “Right.” Nobody’s ever asked him that, but then again he’s never been with someone who had a potentially life-threatening allergy of his own, so of course Curtis _would_ think of that...

 

“Okay. Figured I better make sure.”

 

Shiro hears some soft wet noises above and behind him--probably Curtis rubbing his hands together to warm that lotion up a little. Then he feels Curtis’ hands splay out over his lower back and press down hard, kneading the tension out of his muscles. Curtis works his way up Shiro’s spine, up to the tight muscles between his neck and shoulders, then back down, then back up...

 

God, this is amazing. He could go to sleep like this... if not for the constant low-level awareness that Curtis is naked and hard and perched on his butt. Also he’s lying on his stomach and half-hard. Not a comfortable sleeping position. Not at all.

 

Curtis scoots back a little then, and at first Shiro thinks he’s just trying to get a better angle on his lower back. But then Curtis’ big warm hands slide all the way down Shiro’s spine, all the way down to his ass, and then he starts kneading _there._ And if that isn’t enough Curtis’ thumbs stray inward, slipping just far enough between his cheeks to tease.

 

“This,” Shiro gasps out, “is doing the _opposite_ of relaxing me.”

 

Curtis doesn’t say anything, he just laughs--low and breathy and a little strained. His hands slide back up, and this time he has to lean forward to reach Shiro’s shoulders--and when he does, Shiro feels the head of Curtis’ cock press into the cleft of his ass for just a second. Desperate to get his hands on Curtis somehow, Shiro reaches back with his left hand and finds a knee and a little bit of a calf to pet. Even with just that little bit of contact, he can feel Curtis trembling, can feel it even more the next time he leans forward.

 

Then Curtis’ hands slide down to Shiro’s ass one more time and _squeeze,_ and then Shiro feels Curtis raise up a little. “Flip,” he says, and Shiro laughs softly and wriggles over onto his back as carefully as he can, the last thing he wants to do is dump Curtis off onto the floor.

 

Curtis lets him turn over, then adjusts his position a little, wedging his knees between Shiro’s thighs. He leans down to kiss Shiro again while his hand goes into the nightstand drawer again. This time, it is in fact _the stuff_ he’s after _._ Or half of it, at least. He comes out with the bottle of lube and sits back, then he squirts some into his hand and rubs his palms together again. One warm, slippery hand curls around the base of Shiro’s cock, the other slips back behind his balls, the tip of one finger pressing into him. Shiro hisses in a sharp breath, squeezes his eyes shut, and tries to will himself to relax, but it’s been so long he can’t help but clench a little.

 

(Or--wait. New body, so maybe technically it’s been _never--_ no, _no,_ that’s definitely not a train of thought Shiro wants to hop on right now or really _ever)_

 

“Okay?” Curtis whispers, and Shiro nods.

 

Even now, Curtis is patient with him, gently easing the tip of that finger deeper, adding in some nice little rocking and twisting motions now and then that send shockwaves through Shiro’s nervous system. Then he curls it upward, and--

 

_“Fuck!”_

 

And then Shiro clamps his left hand over his mouth and turns several interesting shades of red. Of course he knows Curtis doesn’t have a problem with other people saying the fuck word, he just doesn’t generally say it himself, but still--Shiro always feels a little weird saying it around him.

 

Sure enough, Curtis just grins a little. “Found it.” He presses up against that spot again, and _again,_ adds a second finger and then a _third,_ and if Shiro’s dick wasn’t standing at full attention before, it sure as hell is now.

 

“Careful,” Shiro gasps. “You’re-- _God,_ that’s good--you’re gonna make me come again.”

 

“Mm.” Curtis eases off on the speed of his thrusts, but not the pressure or the angle. “Kinda tempted to.”

 

“Nu-uh.” Shiro shakes his head. “I wanna come with you inside me.”

 

Curtis thinks that over for a bit, or at least makes a good show out of pretending to while his fingers do the talking. Then he gives Shiro’s cock a little gentle squeeze and lets go, lets his fingers slip out of him, and goes into the nightstand drawer one more time.

 

Shiro watches him and sees what he’s after, and his breath catches in his throat. Yep. The other half of _the stuff._

 

“You, uh... you want me to put that on you?”

 

“Nah.” Curtis shakes his head and sits back, working the wrapper open. “Maybe next time. Just relax.”

 

Well, okay. Kind of disappointing--Shiro is curious about that texture thing and did kind of want to get his hand around Curtis’ dick tonight but... well, maybe later.

 

But it becomes clear in very short order that there’s a reason why Curtis declined his offer of assistance. He’s quite capable of putting the condom on himself, sure, but more importantly--he’s giving Shiro a hell of a show in the process. He squirts a little dab of lube right into the tip and rolls it down over the head of his cock the way one normally would... and then he closes his eyes and rolls it the rest of the way down by stroking himself, thrusting deeper and deeper into his slippery hand until it’s all the way down to the base, every slow thrust dragging a soft little moan out of him.

 

Shiro watches this whole process, wide-eyed and spellbound. He’s not sure he remembers his own name. He’s not sure he remembers how to breathe. He _does_ vaguely remember thinking about telling Curtis they didn’t really need protection, and now he’s very, _very_ glad he didn’t.

 

Then Curtis opens his eyes again, locks his gaze on Shiro’s, and--oh, _shit._ Even if Shiro could move right now, he wouldn’t want to. The way Curtis is looking at him--there’s adoration in that gaze, but underneath it there’s heat and hunger Shiro has never seen there and this beautiful, sweet man looking at him like _that_ sends a warm tingly wave down his spine that spreads to the top of his head and the tips of his fingers and toes and _everything_ between his legs.

 

“Ready?” Curtis whispers, and all Shiro can do is nod. Curtis hooks his hands under Shiro’s calves and guides them to his shoulders, reaches down to make some minor adjustments, and then--

 

Shiro tries to bite back the noise that comes out of him when Curtis presses into him, but _God--_ so before Curtis can ask, he just nods again. “It’s okay,” he gasps. “Keep going.” And Curtis does. Slowly, slowly, he presses forward, so slowly that Shiro swears he can count every little ridge and bump on that condom and holy _shit_ he can already tell that’s going to drive him crazy.

 

When he’s all the way in, Curtis stops there for a while to catch his breath. That’s fine with Shiro; after all, it’s been a very long time (or technically never--no, _no,_ not going there) and Curtis is _really_ hard and he appreciates the chance to relax and adjust, to just lie back and lose himself in the sensation of being filled up like this for a minute.

 

Then Curtis pulls back, pauses there for a moment, and rolls his hips forward again--one slow, careful thrust. Then another, and _another._ Shiro looks up and sees Curtis watching him for any sign of distress or discomfort.

 

“Okay?” Curtis whispers, his voice already a little ragged around the edges, and Shiro nods. _“God,_ you feel so good--I-I want to make this last, I don’t want to come until _you_ do but--”

 

“It’s okay, baby.” Shiro reaches up to brush his thumb across Curtis’ lips. “You--you do what you need to and I’ll just--” Another thrust, this one a little faster, a little deeper, and Shiro yelps a little--is Curtis adjusting his angle? It feels like it. “--enjoy the ride.”

 

Curtis whimpers and lets his head drop forward. And with that, he abandons slow-and-gentle, rocks forward onto his hands, and--oh God, oh _fuck,_ this is exactly what Shiro wants, what he _needs,_ it’s hard and fast and deep and the angle is _perfect,_ the head of Curtis’ cock is hitting him just right, even more when he bears down on it--

 

And then it’s back to slow and easy, and Shiro whines low in his throat and cranes his head back against the pillow. He wasn’t expecting that. And just when he starts to lose himself in the new rhythm Curtis does it again, and he _keeps_ doing it every time Shiro just starts to get used to what he’s doing--from quick and athletic to lazy and gentle, he switches gears without warning and it’s driving him absolutely fucking _wild--_

 

Then just to keep Shiro on his toes, Curtis stops altogether and leans down to kiss him, claiming his mouth with tongue and teeth until they’re both trembling with need.

 

And then Curtis pounds into him again and _God,_ he can’t take this anymore. “I need,” Shiro starts, “I--ah, _ah,_ oh God, Curtis, I need to--” and the rest of whatever he’s trying to say is lost in a long shaky groan when Curtis slows down and all those little ridges and bumps start working their magic again.

 

But the message seems to get across fine. “Yeah,” Curtis whispers, “it’s okay, go ahead, let me see you--”

 

Oh, _fuck._

 

With that permission given, Shiro wraps his flesh-and-blood hand around his cock and strokes it, trying to match Curtis’ rhythm, trying to keep his eyes open and enjoy the sight of Curtis slowly losing control above him. But then Curtis switches up the rhythm again, back to hard and fast, back to just this side of rough, and that’s all Shiro can stand. He grits his teeth and cranes back against the pillow and feels himself and the whole universe shatter, feels wet heat land on his stomach and hears Curtis moan when some of it hits his. Shiro doesn’t even bother trying to contain the mess, but Curtis doesn’t seem to mind--no, judging by the noises he’s making, he doesn’t mind one bit.

 

_“T-Takashi--”_

 

It takes every ounce of willpower Shiro can muster up, but he forces his eyes open just in time, just as Curtis grabs hold of Shiro’s hips and pulls him in tight, just as he throws his head back and bares his teeth and lets out a long, rising groan through them. Even with the condom Shiro can feel Curtis coming inside him, can feel every twitch and throb, and maybe it’s just his imagination but he swears he can even feel the heat of it. And holy _shit_ Curtis is beautiful when he comes, shuddering and gasping for breath until another wave drags more of those delicious cries and moans out of him.

 

It seems to go on forever, and Shiro would be fine with it if it really did. But Curtis finally releases his legs and slumps over him, gasping into the side of his neck, weak and trembling.

 

Shiro wraps his arms around Curtis’ shoulders and his legs around his waist and just holds him there for a while, gently rocking his hips upwards to ease Curtis down from his climax--to ease them both down, really.

 

“You okay?” Curtis finally murmurs, and Shiro laughs into the side of his head.

 

“‘M great.” He runs his hands down Curtis’ back. “You?”

 

“Mm- _hmm.”_ Curtis touches a few soft kisses along Shiro’s jaw and then just sort of melts on top of him, warm and heavy and comfortable.

 

They stay there like that for a while, still and silent, until they catch their breath and Curtis shakily pushes back up onto his hands. “Be right back,” he says, stealing a little kiss as he slides off the bed and wobbles to the bathroom.

 

Shiro hears water running, and a minute later Curtis comes back with a clean towel and a washcloth he presses into Shiro’s hand. It’s wet and warm and it feels nice to clean up with it. Curtis dries him off with the towel when he’s done, and then he tosses the towel and washcloth into the laundry basket.

 

The sheets have miraculously come through this more or less unscathed. Which is great, because Shiro sure as hell doesn’t feel like getting up to change them, and Curtis looks to be running on fumes by now too. So he just reaches up and turns off the light, and Curtis flops into bed beside him. Shiro watches as he stretches out-- _all_ the way out, long and lean with his feet hanging over the end of the bed, and then curls over onto his side.

 

Shiro nestles back against him, his bare back against Curtis’ bare chest, and Curtis wraps an arm around his waist and pulls him close.

 

“Hey,” Shiro murmurs. “You gonna go to the gym in the morning?”

 

“Mm.” Curtis thinks that over and touches a little kiss to the back of Shiro’s shoulder while he does. “Might just stay in and snuggle with you instead... why?”

 

“I was just thinking.” Shiro shrugs and snuggles back against him. “I want to start going with you again. I miss that.”

 

Curtis makes a little soft surprised noise against the back of his shoulder. “I missed it too.” He kisses Shiro’s shoulder one more time and tucks the blanket up around both of them. “I’ll wake you up. ...unless you wake _me_ up first.”

 

“If I wake up feeling frisky, we won’t _need_ to go to the gym.” Shiro flashes Curtis a little grin over his shoulder, and Curtis laughs and pulls him in tight.


End file.
